My Little Prince
by Oddling
Summary: *Part 6 up* The story of Vegeta's mom (I guess her personality and stuff would be considered an original character)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer – o – Doom: Well technically I DO own Callia since she technically isn't actually IN the DB/DBZ/DBGT series. . . but now I have this nagging fear of the copyright police jumping out from under my bed and arresting me, so. . . I don't own ANYTHING! Not any of the db/z/gt stories, or characters! NOTHING! YOU HEAR ME?! NOOOOOOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
A/N: Alrighty, here's the deal: since Vegeta's mom is NEVER mentioned in the story, I figure she deserves to have a story. Yes. *blinks* Uhm, I apologize if she actually already has a name and personality and whatnot, but all this is just from the depths of my insane mind. (lol, you'll see where Vegeta got his attitude from!)  
  
  
  
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Callia moaned loudly and doubled over, clutching at her swollen belly. The contractions had gotten longer and more painful. Her many attendants bustled about her, wiping her sweaty brow with a damp towel and fluffing her pillows. Not that they could do anything to lessen the pain . . . they were just used to pampering her like that.  
  
"Please . . . I want to see my husband," she managed to gasp out between clenched teeth. One of her younger male attendants came forward, nervously fussing with this shirt and avoiding the temperamental queen's gaze.  
  
"Well, uh, you see. . . King Vegeta is kinda in a very important meeting right now, and. . . uhm. . . I don't think he wants to be disturbed . . ."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
He flinched, instinctively shielding himself with his arms. Then realizing that he might have offended her, he immediately puts his arms down.  
  
She took no notice of any of this, however, and continued screaming at the terrified attendant.  
  
"What do you mean MORE IMPORTANT?! I'm having his goddamn child, you idiot! What the hell is more important than that?! You tell that selfish bastard to get in here RIGHT NOW, OR I WILL RIP OUT HIS TAIL AND HANG HIM BY IT!" As she caught her breath, another contraction hit her, nearly making her cry out. Nearly. . . but not quite. She refused to succumb to such a blatant show of pain, and had not cried out a single time since she went into labor. Instead, she chose another outlet: the poor, unsuspecting metal bedrails. By now they had been bent into an unrecognizable state.  
  
"I . . . uhm, ok, I'll . . . I'll go tell him right away." He turned and ran out of the room as quickly as he could, almost tripping over his tail on the way out.  
  
An elderly woman approached her with a strip of cloth, chuckling at her long-time charge's treatment of the panicked attendant. She had been Callia's nursemaid since she was a little girl, and was used to her violent temper.  
  
"Now Callia, it's not nice to scare the poor boy like that!" she admonished, gently helping her sit up so she could tie back her long, purple hair. "He looked like he was afraid you were going to eat him!"  
  
The queen snorted and rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should. I feel like meat."  
  
"Callia!"  
  
"I'm sorry Sueleepa," she laughed weakly, "but this pregnancy thing is driving me insane! And giving birth is probably the easy part . . . How in kami's name am I going to be able raise this kid?! I mean, Vegeta's not going to be any help . . . he's always too busy blowing up planets, and, I dunno, bowling, or whatever the hell it is that he does all day."  
  
Another contraction seized her, causing her to grab and twist the bedrails further. Sueleepa looked on with concern, ordering an attendant to go and fetch the doctor.  
  
"It's almost time, Callia," she said soothingly, brushing sweaty strands of hair from her eyes. "The doctor's been called, and I'm sure Vegeta's on his way."  
  
"He better be," she choked out in an intimidating tone of voice. "I am NOT going through this alone!"  
  
However, despite her callous exterior, the old saiyan woman could still see the scared teenager hiding underneath.  
  
"She's too young for this!" she thought to herself angrily as she helped her lie back down. "I don't care how strong and tough she is . . . she's only a child! I hope to kami that her 18-year-old body can handle this." She cursed King Vegeta silently for putting the poor girl in the position she was in.  
  
A few minutes later, the doctor came into the room and started preparing for the birthing process.  
  
"Everything looks just fine," he assured Callia after checking her vital stats.  
  
She glared up at him and spat out venomously, "How does this look 'just fine'?! I would like to know exactly what is 'just fine' about having a stomach big enough to fit your HEAD inside of!"  
  
He merely blinked and proceeded to pick a syringe off of a metal tray next to her bed, filling it up with a light green-colored fluid.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"A very strong painkiller." He took her right arm to inject the liquid, but she violently drew it back.  
  
"No. I can handle the pain perfectly well without any help from your drugs," she said scornfully, exhibiting the stubborn pride that the saiyan race was infamous for.  
  
He sighed and put the needle down on the tray, knowing that it would be futile to argue with the queen. "As you wish. Shall we begin?"  
  
He rolled over a complicated machine that had been placed in a corner of the room, and began to set it up around Callia. The device assured the baby a safe passage from the womb into the outside world, but it was not always so easy on the mother. She would no doubt be in incredible amounts of pain.  
  
"Wait!" she cried out. The doctor stopped in surprise as her tail wiggled out from under her and curled around his wrist.  
  
"Wait until Vegeta gets here," she commanded severely.  
  
Knowing that she would somehow be able to delay giving birth until the king arrived, he nodded silently and stopped what he was doing. Her stubbornness to wait for her husband would probably allow her to keep the baby in for a whole week, if she had to.  
  
A minute or so later, the king finally made his grand appearance. Striding in at 6'10 (not including his hair), a dark mustache prominent on his stern face, and a long cape swishing about him, he was an intimidating sight. Everyone in the room instinctively shrunk back, except for the petit girl who was currently in labor with his son.  
  
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" she screamed at him, making the doctor worry that all the energy she was exerting would cause the baby to just shoot out then and there.  
  
"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR THE PAST HOUR, YOU JERK!"  
  
He strode over to her side and apologetically smiled down at her.  
  
"I'm sorry, but we were in the middle of some very important. . ."  
  
She screamed and grab the first thing her hand came in contact with, the syringe, and hurled it at him with all her might. He ducked just in time as it sailed across the room and went right through the wall, leaving a small hole. There was a muffled groan from the other room, followed by a dull thud. Callia, however, was too angry to notice any of this.  
  
"More important?! What the hell is more important than being here for the birth of your freakin' son?! He's going to be your heir, you know! Or have you forgotten that, Mr. I'm-so-high-and-mighty-because-I-have- a-whole-planet-named-after-me? Maybe I should just chuck the damn kid out the window as soon as it's born! See what becomes of your precious planet THEN!"  
  
Despite the fact that Vegeta was, as she mentioned, the king of a planet in his namesake, and had been to war numerous times, he was rather afraid of his wife. Quite frankly, the small saiyan queen terrified him.  
  
"Well, it is kinda of your planet also. . . " he began, but was immediately cut off with:  
  
"SHUT UP!"  
  
Well, there was no way to argue with that.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N 2 (The stupidity returns): More chapters are on their way! I. . .think. I seem to have this habit of starting stories and never finishing them. . . Well, I kinda know where I'm going with this one, so that's always a good thing! So how do you guys like Callia? Review, please!!! 


	2. Chapter 2 (yes, I'm so creative with my ...

Disclaimer: Oh man, do I REALLY have to do this again?? (yes) damn. Ok, uh, yea. Ditto to the first one. w00t!  
  
  
  
  
  
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After Callia managed to calm down somewhat, everyone was ushered out of the room save for herself, Vegeta, and the doctor. With the machine now set up, there was technically no need for the doctor to actually be there. He stayed to oversee the procedure and to make sure that nothing would go wrong. And Vegeta stayed because, well. . . he was certain there would be dire consequences if he even thought about stepping foot outside the room.  
  
Not that the king was one to be easily intimidated. Far from it. It was just that most saiyan women, though slightly weaker than the males (but only slightly, mind you; they were still fighters) generally had attitudes that could send any living creature to run and hide under the nearest rock. Callia was no exception. What she lacked in height was made up for by her fiery personality. On top of all that, she was still technically a teenager. And pregnant. She was definitely not a force to be messed with.  
  
Vegeta made himself comfortable in a nearby chair, wishing that he could be in his meeting room right now, discussing tactics on how to conquer planets more efficiently.  
  
"Why should I be here? I'm not the one having the child, for Kami's sake! I swear, I will never understand women. . ." he muttered to himself.  
  
Callia turned her heads towards him and growled, "Of course you're not the one having the baby! Men couldn't handle child-birth if it was reduced to the equivalent of eating pudding!"  
  
"What?!" he boomed, shooting out of his chair and looming over her.  
  
She scared him, true, but he still had a colossal pride of his own.  
  
"How dare you insult your husband, the King of Vegeta-sei like that? Have you no respect, woman?!"  
  
She glared back, un-flinching.  
  
"Oh don't start that 'woman' crap with ME! I have plenty of respect! You're the one who doesn't. . .AHHHHHHH!" she cried out suddenly, arching her back off the bed.  
  
"What's wrong?" he demanded, carefully trying to mask the panic in his voice.  
  
After panting harshly for a few minutes, she regained her composure and narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"I'm trying to shove a mini version of a saiyan out of my body, where it has been leeching off of me for the past 17 months!"  
  
Unfortunately, saiyan pregnancies tended to take longer than human ones. Perhaps it was because of the tail. Who knows?  
  
"You know what I mean," he said, flustered.  
  
"It's labor! What, do you expect me to start singing and dancing?!"  
  
Before he could reply, she let out another earsplitting scream. However, this one was different from the last one. She writhed around, her features contorted in pain.  
  
The doctor rushed over, quickly checking to see what was wrong.  
  
"Oh no. . ." He turned to the king and beckoned him away from her bedside.  
  
"What's happening to her? Why aren't you fixing it?" Vegeta demanded as soon as they were out of her hearing range.  
  
The doctor took a deep breath.  
  
"There are complications. Her vital signs are becoming weaker. I. . . don't know if her body can handle this."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Sorry to stop it at such a strange place, but I kinda lost my momentum. I figure the next part should be pretty "dramatic," and I'm in no state to do that right now. (lol, somehow I've developed this bad habit of not starting hw until 2 in the morning, so now would be hw time) I'll try to post it up as soon as I write it. Thanks for the reviews on the first chapter!!! 


	3. Callia's Thoughts (oh lookie! an actual...

Disclaimer: Blergh, didn't I just do one in the LAST chapter?!  
  
  
  
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Callia's thoughts:  
  
  
  
A mother.  
  
Me.  
  
Me, a goddamn mother! How is that possible?!  
  
It's not! It can't be!  
  
It's bad enough having to put up with the whole royalty business . . .  
  
*bitter laughter*  
  
My older sister Relana would give anything to be in my place. She was always the gentle, polite, nurturing one. I was the obnoxious brat, who would rather train with my father and brothers than . . .well, anything else! Relana would have made the perfect queen . . .not to mention the perfect mother and wife. She always knew what to do when I came into the house, all bloody and half unconscious. My mother refused to get anywhere near blood. Guess she couldn't risk getting her precious clothes dirty, since she was always going to those damn parties all the time. Thank kami she never tried to get me to go to any . . . I guess my complete and utter lack of manners, tact, and everything else considered "ladylike" paid off for something after all. Hn. It's all a waste of energy anyway. What's the point of asking someone to get out of your way if you can just blast them across the room? That way they'll be sure to never get in your way again.  
  
Oooooh. . . . My stomach feels like it's being ripped to pieces by some insane little tsuban (tsuban: an annoying little squirrel-like animal) doing an interpretative dance with burning hot razor blades while high on sugar! What the hell is going on in there?! This is worse than any injury I've ever gotten from training or sparring. . .  
  
*sigh*  
  
I know, I know. . . saiyan warriors do not complain or show any outward signs of pain. We bear it with strength and dignity.  
  
Well SCREW THAT!  
  
Whoever came up with that has obviously never. . .  
  
Oh kami.  
  
Something's wrong. . .  
  
No!  
  
DAMNIT, NO!  
  
I will NOT go this way! I refuse to die in childbirth like some weakling little housewife! My death will be an honorable one! Not one lying in bed, surrounded by some strange machine!  
  
Ok kid, listen up. You have been living inside of me for the past 17 months, and somehow I've grown incredibly fond of you. True, I had to stop my training because of you, and I look like I'm trying to conceal a small planet under my stomach. But you're a part of me, and if anyone even THINKS about trying to hurt you, I'd ki blast them so fast they wouldn't know what hit them. It's my job to take care of you, and I'm not going to let you down. Maybe I won't be able to be the mother you deserve, but I will NOT die on you! I . . .  
  
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Ahhh! Sorry sorry sorry! Sorry for taking so long to post this up, and sorry it's so short! I'll try to make the next chapter a lot longer! Really! . . . unless I make it a transitions chapter, which would be really short . . .so, uh, I'll make the next NEXT chapter really long! Yea! (just as soon as I figure out what it's going to be. . . ) 


	4. Chapter 4 (back to my oh-so-unique title...

Callia's scream was cut short abruptly, and Vegeta and the doctor held their breaths.  
  
A loud wail broke the silence, and the two men rushed over to her bedside. They were greeted with the sight of the exhausted queen cradling her newborn son, who was currently howling his lungs off. She looked up and wearily gave them her infamous smirk.  
  
"He'll be louder than both of us combined."  
  
The baby prince had little tufts of jet-black hair, and a glossy reddish- brown tail, which he was unconsciously twitching around. He probably wouldn't be able to fully control it for a couple of months or so. After all, learning to control the furry appendage was just like learning how to walk.  
  
Vegeta observed his son for a few moments, and silently held out his hands. She gently placed him in the king's gloved hands, where the tiny baby fit snugly. The baby looked at his father solemnly for a few seconds, and proceeded to latch onto his thumb and start gnawing on it with fierce determination. A smile flittered across Vegeta's normally stern face.  
  
"What is his name?"  
  
The silence was broken by the doctor's question. And indeed, it was a very good question . . . as amusing as it was, the prince of the saiyan race could not be called Little Tsuban. Not many planets would fear or respect a planet ruled by a man named after an annoying squirrel-like thing. The king looked up sharply.  
  
"He will be called Vegeta, of course."  
  
"What?!" Callia shot straight up in bed, wincing at the protests of pain from her stomach. "His name can't be Vegeta!"  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because that's already YOUR name!"  
  
"Precisely! He's the heir to the throne! It would only make sense that the planet would be in his namesake."  
  
"But HE's the in the PLANET's namesake! It's ridiculous to name a kid after the planet it's born on! What if this was planet Sally, huh? Would you name our son Sally: The Proud Saiyan Prince?!"  
  
"Callia, you're being ridiculous."  
  
She scowled at him darkly. She barely had enough energy left to breathe correctly, much less have an all-out shouting match with her mate. "Unimaginative bastard," she muttered, before passing out cold.  
  
Vegeta stood there for a bit, confused. "So . . . do I win?"  
  
A gurgling sound from his hands came as a reply. He glanced down and saw that his son had managed to chew through the glove, and was now chewing on his bare thumb. He half-smiled.  
  
"You may have my name, but you are certainly your mother's child."  
  
  
  
  
  
------------------One week later---------------------  
  
  
  
"DAMNIT!" Callia dropped her sword and grabbed her left arm, walking hastily over to the small storage area that was attatched to the training room. That morning she had decided that she was well enough to start training again (despite the protests of everyone besides her), and programmed the droids to sword fighting mode. Unfortunately all the time off from training had taken its toll, and she let her guard down for a brief second. That was all that the droid needed to make its attack.  
  
Blood seeped through her fingers and ran down her arms as she looked for some gauze to wrap up her arm in. The fact that she only had one fairly weak arm to assist her in this task, and that her height only allowed her to reach the bottom 2 cabinets of the storage area hindered her search quite a bit.  
  
"Where are the goddamn rolls of gauze?! I could've sworn there were down here . . ."  
  
Annoyed, she formed a low-energy ki blast in her palm and shot it at the top shelves. She had no clue how that would help, but blowing things up was always fun.  
  
BAM!  
  
The explosion rang through the palace. Although it only had about 1/10 of the energy she was capable of using, it still caused a fair amount of damage. For one thing, the storage area was completely burnt to a crisp. They would have to get a new one put in . . . again.  
  
Callia was about to walk out when she noticed a small brownish roll of cloth on the ground.  
  
"THERE it is!" she exclaimed, and proceeded to bind her arm. Meanwhile, the king had heard the explosion and rushed out of his meeting to see what had happened. Not that he was surprised . . . Callia's shouting could be heard all the way to his meeting all across the palace, and he was just waiting for something to blow up.  
  
He went straight to the training room, just in time to see her finish wrapping her arm.  
  
"What are you doing?!"  
  
She turned around.  
  
"Training," she said calmly, walking over to where she had dropped her sword. She unsnarled the strip of black cloth from her huge tangle of purple hair, brushed several strands out of her face, and tied it back up.  
  
"You were just pregnant a week ago!" he exclaimed, not understanding exactly where the tiny saiyan got so much energy from.  
  
She shrugged and picked up her sword, shifting it in her hands to find the most comfortable grip.  
  
"Well, pregnancies aren't really permanent things . . . after the baby's born, it's kinda over."  
  
With that she turned her back on him, gingerly testing to see if she could handle the sword with her wounded arm.  
  
"Don't you need to be taking care of Vegeta?"  
  
She chuckled, not bothering to turn around. "Doesn't sound weird to be talking about yourself in the third person?"  
  
He sighed in annoyance, making her laugh harder.  
  
"Don't worry about the little tsuban . . . he's fast asleep. And Suleepa's looking after him. She'll come get me when he wakes up."  
  
Vegeta chose to momentarily ignore the strange nickname that his strange wife had given their son, and moved on to something else altogether. "Callia, this is no way for a saiyan woman, much less a QUEEN, to be acting!"  
  
She froze, and turned around. "We're a race of warriors," she said quietly, slowly walking towards him. "We train. We fight. It's what we do."  
  
He watched her approach him, warily. "No, the men fight. The women take care of the children and the home."  
  
As quick as lightning, she chucked her sword straight at the king's throat, and launched herself into the air. Right as the metal point touched flesh, she landed right beside her sword and grabbed it by the blade. She smirked at him arrogantly.  
  
"But I'm so much better at this, don't you think?"  
  
He nodded, afraid to talk.  
  
She narrowed her eyes and dug the tip of the sword into his throat. "Don't you have planets to blow up or something?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Woo! A long chapter, and it's been less than 2 years since the last one! Go me! *yawn* Well I'm going to go take a break from life for awhile, so I shall see you all when I get back! Bye! (P.S. that wasn't meant to be a cliff-hanger or anything. . . I mean, she's not going to chop his head off or something! so, uh, yay!…? I think. Yes. Right-o!) 


	5. Breakfast

Disclaimer: I have decided to use this space for something more productive. I just don't know what it is yet, exactly.  
  
A/N: Unfortunately, I have returned. Yes, the horror prevails! I apologize profusely for the short chapters, but I can't seem to write long ones . . . my mind fluctuates too much to actually settle down and stick with one thing. Anyway, here ya go, enjoy!  
  
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5 years later . . .  
  
"I want spaghetti."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"And bread."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And soup."  
  
"What kind?"  
  
"All of them."  
  
"But . . . "  
  
"And chicken."  
  
"Along with the spaghetti, bread, and soup?"  
  
"Yes. And fish."  
  
"Instead of the chicken?"  
  
"Baka! Did I say that?"  
  
"No sir . . . please, go on."  
  
"That's all."  
  
"Are you sure? That's quite a lot to be eating for breakfast . . ."  
  
"And you're talking quite a lot to be someone who's paid to cook."  
  
The flustered servant quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen, nearly running over Callia on the way.  
  
"Oh! I'm very sorry, my queen!" he bowed deeply while still running, causing him to accidentally run into the wall. He quickly recovered and turned the corner.  
  
She stared after him strangely, wondering what had gotten the new head cook into such a state of panic. It immediately made sense when she saw her son come out of office with a wicked smirk to rival her own. She found her mouth curling to meet the expression of little Vegeta.  
  
"Scaring the cook already? Wow, you've got talent little tsuban . . . I wasn't terrorizing household servants until I was at least 5 and a half!"  
  
He looked up in surprise, and broke into a genuine grin.  
  
"Mama!" he cried happily, running and jumping into her arms. She grimaced, then laughed and tightened her arms to carry him.  
  
"Mama, what's wrong? Why aren't you training?" he asked, noticing the grimace.  
  
Normally Callia was up before both Vegetas, and trained until afternoon. The elder of the Vegetas got up shortly afterwards and was occupied for most of the day with meetings. Suleepa looked after the little prince in the mornings, although she usually left him to his own devices. Actually, he demanded that he was a fully functional saiyan with 5 whole years of life experience, and would take care himself just fine thank you very much.  
  
"It's nothing . . . just a little scratch. But the doctor's making me rest for a few days anyway." She rolled her eyes.  
  
Vegeta looked at his mother in surprise. No one ever told her what to do.  
  
She saw the confusion on his face and sighed. "Ok, fine, he ordered all my swords to be hidden."  
  
He burst out into laughter, imagining the rage that the queen must have gone into when she discovered that her swords were missing. These kinds of revelations generally led to explosions and decimated buildings, and he wondered why the sound of a blast hadn't woken him up this morning.  
  
"Did you blast him? Huh? Did you?" he asked eagerly, uncurling his tail from his waist and wrapping it around her arm. Callia shook her head, and he groaned in disappointment.  
  
"Sorry kid, no fireworks this time. I don't think your father would have been too happy to get another doctor so soon." She snickered as Vegeta frowned petulantly. "That never stopped you before!"  
  
This was true.  
  
She ruffled his hair fondly. "Don't worry about it, you'll be blowing up your own doctors in no time!"  
  
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "You promised you were going to start training me today!"  
  
She nodded nonchalantly. "Sure, right after breakfast. Speaking of which, lets go to the dining hall . . . the food should be ready by now. That is, unless . . . " she smirked, "the cook had a nervous breakdown from your breakfast order and tried disemboweling himself with a fish!"  
  
Vegeta unwrapped his tail from his mother's arm and hopped down, walking with her down the corridor.  
  
"But you can't train today. You're hurt!" he protested, looking up at her as they walked.  
  
She shrugged and kept on looking straight ahead. "Like I said, it's only a scratch. Besides, the doctor said no training for me . . . he never said that I couldn't be the one doing the training."  
  
Vegeta simply grinned at this; he should have known that Callia wouldn't back down from her promise. There was, however, one thing that still nagged at his mind . . .  
  
"Mama?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What's disemboweling?"  
  
They stopped in front of the massive wooden dining hall doors. She paused for a second and studied his serious expression.  
  
"Kami," she thought to herself, "he looks so much like his father when he does that!"  
  
She pushed open the doors, revealing the extravagant dining hall. It could have probably fit half the saiyan population, but at the moment it would only be the two of them.  
  
"You sure you want to know? It's not exactly the best thing to hear before breakfast. Or midday meals. Or dinner. Actually, it's just not a good thing to hear if you want to eat ever again."  
  
He nodded firmly.  
  
"Well here's the detailed version . . ."  
  
5 minutes later . . .  
  
"WHAT?!" Vegeta turned a strange hue of green for a split second, then quickly recovered and stormed through the door that connected the room to the kitchen.  
  
"YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR INTESTINES OUT OF MY FOOD!"  
  
"That's my boy!" Callia thought proudly, laughing as she heard her little terror frightening (and not to mention confusing) the poor cooks to death.  
  
"Sir...?!"  
  
"You heard me!"  
  
"I . . . I don't understand!"  
  
"Do . . . not . . . GET YOUR INNARDS IN MY FOOD!"  
  
"But I . . ."  
  
"Give me that fish!"  
  
There was a loud crash, and he stalked out of the kitchen. "Clean that up and hurry up and make my food! I'm hungry!" he called angrily over his shoulder as the door swung closed.  
  
The sight of the little prince with bits of fish embedded in his hair and tail made Callia laugh harder. He shot her an indignant look, which had the queen of all saiyans nearly rolling around on the floor in hysterics. She finally managed to get a hold of herself when he turned his head, revealing a fish head sticking up from his thick black gravity-defying hair. She burst into gales of laughter once again.  
  
"Mama, it's not funny!"  
  
She stopped abruptly and nodded solemnly.  
  
"I'm sorry, no, it's not."  
  
She paused.  
  
"Son, I have something very important to tell you."  
  
"What?" Vegeta asked suspiciously.  
  
Callia placed her hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"You . . ."  
  
He looked at her expectantly.  
  
". . . HAVE A FISH HEAD IN YOUR HAIR!" she exclaimed, plucking out the offending object and dangling it in front of his face.  
  
He growled and attempted to snatch it away, but she quickly yanked her hand back. Just then they both heard a polite cough, and the highly amused mistress of the palace turned around to see the servers cowering behind the trays of food they held at the door.  
  
"It's alright, you can come in," she said lightly. "Little Veggie won't eat you. Actually, I'm pretty sure he made it very clear that he DOESN'T want to eat you." Vegeta scowled and said nothing as he took a seat in his chair, glaring murderously at the servers, daring them to say a word.  
  
A/N (wow, I bet you could've sworn you've seen this before!): Next up is the training! I seem to be having difficulty staying 100% conscious for long amounts of time, so I'll get to that after I get some much-needed sleep over the weekend. Wish me dreams of Trunks and/or Veggie! 


	6. The training begins...kinda

Disclaimer: uhm…yes. You know the drill.  
  
A/N: So sorry for taking FOREVER to finally get on with this fic!!!! It's just that I got some other ideas and I get so easily sidetracked…lol, I know…excuses excuses. Well obviously my drunk penguin muse has finally stumbled back to me… Actually this chapter was kind of forced, since drunk penguins aren't exactly the most reliable muses. Hopefully I'll get the whole flow of writing back soon, but until then….enjoy! And may the meatloaf be with you.  
  
  
  
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A much cleaner (and fish-free) little Vegeta stepped into the training room, donning a black gi with the royal emblem on the back in silver. He watched with fascination as Callia sliced through the air with her sword, her movements only slightly hindered by her injury. Her long hair was gathered into a single messy braid, and it whipped around her head as she preformed several complex maneuvers. She paused to catch her breath, and upon seeing him, tossed her sword aside and motioned for him to come forward with her head. He complied, striding to the middle of the room while keeping his eyes on the discarded weapon. She noticed where his gaze was, and immediately knew what he was thinking.  
  
"Sorry little tsuban . . . you won't be using any sharp objects for awhile."  
  
"Why not?" he asked defensively, the hair on his tail prickling slightly in agitation.  
  
"The sword's bigger than you are!"  
  
"There're smaller ones."  
  
"Vegeta, you know as well as I do that it takes years of basic training before you can fight with weapons." She laughed. "For Kami's sake, you're only 5 years old! You have tons of time to learn this stuff."  
  
"I want to learn it now!"  
  
He scowled petulantly and plopped down on the ground, his tail wrapped firmly around his waist. Callia sighed . . . she knew there'd be no reasoning with him. After all, how could you reason with a kid who inherited stubbornness from BOTH his parents? There was only one thing she could do to keep this semi-argument from escalating into an all-out war. She winced, remembering the last time that had happened . . . the outcome was not pretty, and she (along with most of household servants) had learned the hard way that Vegeta did not particularly enjoy wearing dress armor. For someone who hadn't learned any ki attacks, he was incredibly good at wreaking havoc.  
  
Callia took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't regret the next words to come out of her mouth.  
  
"Fine. You can use it."  
  
She walked over to her sword and picked it up, carrying it back to Vegeta. His eyes lit up at her consent, but they immediately narrowed in suspicion at the weapon held before him.  
  
"How come you changed your mind?" he asked, looking up at his mother from his position on the floor.  
  
"Hn, smart kid…" Callia thought to herself with a faint smirk. "Already questioning motives. He's going to make a hell of a fighter."  
  
Though secretly proud of him, she put on a face of cool indifference and withdrew the sword.  
  
"Well if you don't WANT to use it…" She trailed off, turning her back to him and slowly walking over to the weapons rack, feigning putting the sword away.  
  
Vegeta was up in a shot.  
  
"I didn't say that," he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood before the saiyan queen.  
  
Anyone could have easily forgotten that this was only a boy of 5, and not a general of 55…if it were not for the slight childish pout tugging at his lips. She arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her own arms, still holding the sharp metal object by its handle. Mother and son mirrored each other in a sort of standoff, neither one willing to break the silence by speaking first. Finally Callia slowly uncrossed her arms and held the sword in front of her, making the tip rest on the hard ground. This time Vegeta accepted her offer and stepped forward to receive it.  
  
Unfortunately his height prevented him from being able to reach the handle, so the queen moved her hand down to the middle of the sword and lowered it to the ground. Once the handle was low enough he grabbed onto it with both hands, and Callia let go.  
  
Vegeta's upper body was jerked down with the unexpected weight, and she struggled not to laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face as he straightened. He tried to lift it up, but only managed to drag the blade across the ground. The young prince bit his lower lip in fierce determination as he struggled with the impossible task of raising a sword that was taller than he was. Finally with a look of annoyance and dropped the handle and looked up at Callia. The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed through the room.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
She had expected him to throw a fit and demand that he get a lighter sword, or just stalk out of the room. What she didn't expect, however, was to have him wait slightly impatiently with the weapon fallen by his side.  
  
"You proved your point. Can we start training now?"  
  
The petit saiyan queen smirked and nodded. "That's my boy," she murmured, softly enough so that he wouldn't overhear her. "Kid…some day you're going to be legendary."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N II: Sorry for the short chapter…I'll bravely attempt to make the next one longer! (lol, I think you've all noticed by now that long chapters aren't exactly my forte…actually NOTHING's really my forte, but that's neither here nor there). And now I am off to sleep, because this headache is killing me! Goodnight, and gravy-filled dreams! 


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